Shaking
by Tigerlily
Summary: The girl Charlie left behind, or who left him behind...They've been apart for ages and he's not over her. She's decided that she's over him but begins to worry about him, and ther worry concerns her. Her story of the crash and the aftermath with Charlie.
1. The Beginning

A/N: This was supposed to be a one-shot when I wrote it.. no chapters or anything... but It grew so now it's kinda long now and it probably will have chapters...but the last one was broken of in a _really _awkward place for me, and it was super short. so I'm just slapping it back with this one, the way it belongs.

Please r/r.. makes me happier then you could know.

"Shaking"

I was worried.

I know it sounds stupid and childish; you're not supposed to worry about exes who hurt you the way Charlie hurt me... but I couldn't help it.

I didn't _miss _him... I was just concerned.

Seriously!

I called him and he didn't answer, but he never answered anyhow, so that didn't really surprise me. And it didn't bother me.

I left a short message on his machine but he didn't call me back, which didn't really surprise me either.

He was probably still pissed at me. I probably... hurt him when I left. Our breakup hadn't gone well, I yelled and cried and he yelled and cried and in the end, I threw my stuff into a duffle bag and left the hotel. I went back to my sister's house and remained there until I flew back to LA.

Just to clarify, the drugs weren't the thing that made me leave. He hardly ever used them when we were together. And when he did, he wouldn't lie about it. He'd come home pale and sweaty and say he'd fucked up before he threw up into the sink.

We didn't talk much after I left, but his roommate Steve would call me constantly begging that I take Charlie back.

"He's a mess," he'd say. "He's snorting day and night and I think if I leave him alone long enough he'll OD on me or something. I'll come back and he'll be dead."

"I can't," I'd say over and over again. "He doesn't really want me."

"He needs you Samantha." he'd say.

But he didn't, he had so many others....

Price of fame I suppose.

Fucking groupies.

I think I hated them the most. Charlie would tell me how much he loved me a hundred times a day and write me songs and take me (and my mad photography skills) on tour with the band. But that wouldn't stop those damned girls from throwing themselves at him every chance they got.

And he'd say "No" and try to fend of their attacks and turn them away.

Sometimes.

But other times he'd stumble back to the hotel room at 3am and tell me that he was sorry and that he loved me. His hands would shake and his eyes would look dark and scared.

Many of these nights would end with him puking in the sink as well.

And I'm not saying that these nights happened often.... but they _did_ happen.

I told myself that it was just the price I had to pay for my boyfriend being a "rock star" for lack of a better phrase. I told myself it wasn't important and that they didn't mean anything to him.

I know I probably sounded like a fucking head case, but Charlie, when he wasn't screwing some girl of retching in my sink, made me happy. I was so in love with him that, well... I was willing to convince myself of all this so I could continue to stay with him and love him because he loved me.

So I told myself all of that, but one day I stopped believing it.

And after being together for a little over 11 months and spending 9 months of that time on the road, I began to re-evaluate our relationship.

And the number of nights a week he'd come home with shaking hands and drug-induced stupors grew. And for a few weeks the most I saw of him was his shadow over the bed and the sound of him kicking off his boots and the springs creaking as he collapsed next to me on the bed.

Then he'd be off setting up or getting packed by the time I woke up.

Or he'd kiss me and say, "Love you baby. See you tonight." and then he'd just walk out the door.

So one day I did the same thing.

I can't remember everything about the night I left him. Actually, I didn't _want _to, which is different. But regardless of what I do or don't remember, I know that it was raining.

I had to stay late at the studio where I was finishing up processing my latest pictures. So I got to the hotel room pretty late... or early, depending on which day your looking at.

I didn't really expect Charlie to be awake, so when I saw him asleep I wasn't that surprised. But I didn't expect that girl that was sleeping next to him,

Not completely anyhow....

She looked a few years younger then me, maybe sixteen or seventeen, but not older then that.

Her hair was long and bleach blond and Charlie's face was buried in it.

I slammed the door shut and her eyes fluttered open and met mine, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Who're you?" she asked. Her voice was annoyingly high pitched.

I noticed a plastic bag with the remnants of a crystalline, white powder on the floor.

"I'm his girlfriend." I picked up the bag and threw it into the trashcan.

She smirked and the ugly twist her mouth made didn't suit her pretty face.

"Not anymore you're not." She spoke with the air of someone who'd stolen a first place trophy out if the hands of the victor because she'd fucked the judges. She rubbed Charlie's back and continued to smirk at me. My stomach twisted uncomfortably.

"Charlie love," she whispered into his ear, her eyes never leaving mine. "Wake up sweetie."

I narrowed my eyes. Charlie hated people who called him by pet names.

His hand moved down to her stomach and began to trace last circles on it, something he'd done to me every morning.

"What baby?" he mumbled. "'S'it time to go?" I knew he thought it was me; he rarely uses my real name unless he's feeling super serious.

"No Charlie," I said coolly, walking to the edge of the bed. "But please, do wake up anyhow."

His eyes snapped open as rolled over and his eyes flew to mine. They widened as they saw the am draped over his chest. They hesitantly traveled to the owner of that arm and when his eyes finally met hers he groaned and shut them again.

"Shit," he muttered.

"My thoughts exactly."

"Sweetie," the girl said again. "Why's she-"

"-Get out." Charlie interrupted. He picked up the clothes piled on the floor next to the bed and threw them at her.

"What-?" she squeaked.

"Get the fuck out!" he yelled. He pulled the blankets of her.

"Fine!" The girl jumped of the bed. She pulled off the black t-shirt she was wearing and replaced it with the sweater Charlie threw at her. She tossed it back to him with a huff of anger. "And you can keep your stupid t-shirt!!"

Then she stormed past me towards the door and, with a final glare at me opened it and slammed it shut after she walked out.

Charlie swung his legs over the side of the bed and sighed.

After a moment of silence he looked up at me.

"You're home early baby," he said. "I didn't expect you back this soon."

"Obviously."

He looked away from me for a second before reaching for the manila envelope I was clutching.

"How'd the pictures turn out?"

I glared at him and tossed the envelope onto the table. I didn't care if they got fucked up, I could always find another darkroom and redo the prints.

"Are we just not going to talk about this?" I asked as he stood up.

"What Sam?" He pulled his jeans on and met my eyes. "What do you want me to say? That I fucked up?! I know I did. You know that I love you more then anything Sam."

"How do you expect me to believe that?" I asked softly.

He growled angrily and pulled his driveshaft, oh excuse me.... I mean DriveShaft shirt on. But he didn't say anything.

"Charlie," I said again. I wasn't going to let him off that easily. "Please answer me."

He pulled me to him and kissed me fiercely for a long moment. I tried to make myself pull away, but I couldn't do it. I hated myself for not hating him and not

smacking him in the face when he pulled away and met my eyes.

"I love you Sam," he whispered, brushing my hair out of my eyes. "You're everything to me." He wasn't lying.

"What does that make her then?" I asked, part of me already knowing the answer.

"She's... nothing." He said. "A stupid mistake. I'm sorry Sam. I swear that it won't happen-"

"-Don't!" I said suddenly. He took a step back from me, startled by my tiny outburst. "Please _don't_ lie to me."

"I'm not!" he said loudly. "I'm really sorry Sam!"

"Are you sorry for what you did or because you got caught this time?!"

He hesitated a moment before he said "No." and that moment of hesitation was all I needed to see.

Hardly knowing what I was doing, I turned away from my boyfriend and picked up my duffle bag. I ignored his apologetic words and began to stuff my clothes into the bag.

"Sam you know I'm sorry. And you know I love you and that I don't want to hurt you and that I don't _mean_ to hurt you but," he paused and didn't speak for a long moment. When he did say something, his voice was a little shaky.

"What're you doing?"

"You're a smart boy Charlie," I zipped the bag shut. "I'm sure you can figure it out."

He walked over to me and looked at my bag in bewildered way before meeting my eyes for a second.

"You're... packing," he said. Then realization dawned on his face and he met my eyes earnestly. "You're not...Sam. You can't."

"Can't what?" I turned back to my bag unable to hold his gaze when he was looking at me like that.

"Are you leaving me?"

A/N: More later I promise!! Tell me what you all thinks!


	2. Goodbyes

My eyes closed and I sighed. "I'm sorry Charlie." I whispered.

"No," he said, grabbing my hand. "Sam no. You can't do this."

"I can't stay like this Charlie." I said, unable to met his eyes. "This just keeps happening, and-"

"It won't happen again. I swear to God I won't-"

"-But you will," I cut in, finally meeting his eyes.

"And even if you don't, you already have and I can't…"

I looked away, down at my hand clutched in his. I felt tears on my face.

"Don't do this baby," he pleaded. "You know you're everything to me. They mean nothing. God…. Sam, I love you so much." He paused and touched his face to my bowed head. "So goddamn much."

"And I love you." I whispered. He sighed onto my hair.

"Then why are you doing this?" he asked quietly. "We don't have to do this Sam. Stay. You love me…. So stay with me."

"It's why I have to go." I said. "It hurts too much to stay like this Charlie."

Then he cried. He pulled me into his arm and I felt his tears falling onto my skin.

"Don't Charlie," I sniffed, feeling incredibly guilty all of a sudden. "Please don't cry…" I searched my mind for something to do or say. I wanted to explain how I felt so he'd understand the why part of this. "It's like…. Like that song."

Possibly not the best choice, but all I could come up with, and I know he'd understand it.

Charlie made a barking noise that sounded halfway between a laugh and a sob. He took a step back and met my eyes.

"Sam," he asked. "What are you talking about?"

"That, um…the Peter Allen song you always pretended to hate because you thought people would think you were lame if they knew you liked it."

He just stared at me.

"The one, you know," I made a meaningless gesture with my hands. "With the roses?"

I hummed a few bars of it, trying to remember the lyrics. "I'd rather…uh," My voice was hushed as the words suddenly rushed slowly from my mouth. "I'd rather leave while I'm in love. While I still believe the meaning of the word."

Charlie closed his eyes and put his head on my shoulder, unwilling to meet my eyes. Once I heard what was coming from my mouth, I felt another wave of guilt, but I couldn't stop now.

"I'll keep my dreams and just pretend that you and I were never meant to end."

"Sam," he sniffed. He began to sway a little, so I quickly sat on the edge of the bed. A second later, he was laying with me on the comforter, his head turned away from me on my lap, his eyes closed.

I sighed and tried not to cry as I leaned over him and brushed his neck with my fingertips.

"To many times I've seen the rose die on the vine.

And somebody's hear gets broken, usually it's mine. I don't want to take the chance of being hurt again. And you…and," I paused and tried to breathe normally as a few of my tears fell onto the back of his neck. His back shuddered and I knew he was crying.

"And you and I can't say goodbye." I closed my eyes and rested my head on his. His body tensed for a minute, but I took a breath and continued.

"So if you wake and find me gone, just carry on. You see I need my fantasy. I still believe it's best to leave while I'm in love."

The rain pounded on the cement outside as I closed my eyes and let my tears fall freely.

He sat up and laid his hand on my cheek.

"And you always said you couldn't sing," he said softly.

I almost laughed, and my tears became less noisy.

"I can't." I met his eyes sadly.

He took my hand. "Please don't do this," he said one last time.

"I have to."

He held me close and kissed me one more time. Then he let go of me and scooted to the opposite side of the bed.

Believing that was a signal to leave, I gathered up the rest of my things and headed for the door.

He called put my name as my hand brushed the doorknob and I turned to face him.

His chest was bare, the worn DriveShaft shirt he'd been wearing was in his hand.

"Here." he offered it to me.

I shook my head, not wanting to take anything more from him. I felt like I'd taken so much already.

"Please," he said. "Let me just…please take it."

I nodded and he draped it over my bag so it wouldn't fall. I looked at my shoes.

"Thank you Charlie." I said quietly.

He took a half step closer to me, but no more. I met his eyes hesitantly as he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away for a moment. When he met my eyes again, the look in his made my body ache with guilt.

Then he spoke.

"I…I'll never stop loving you." he said simply.

And my heart broke.

It broke as he sat back down on the bed and as I opened into the door and stepped onto the night air.

A/n: I'll update ASAP. Please r/r so i know if you peoples want me to continue.


	3. Phone Calls

And that was that. It was over, we were finished and I told myself not to think about it again.

But I couldn't. Which was why, 8 months later, I was sitting by my phone waiting for it to ring.

I was shocked that, 5 minutes after sitting by it, it did ring.

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach as I answered it.

"Hello?"

"Samantha?" it was Liam, Charlie's older brother.

"Yeah?"

"Is… have you heard from your ex recently?"

"No, I haven't. Why? Is…is something wrong?"

He laughed a little and asked in a teasing vioce. "Why, are you actually _worried _about him Samantha?"

"Don't be stupid Liam." I spoke to quickly to sound honest, but he didn't pursue it. "I… you wouldn't call me unless something serious was going on. So please just tell me."

The phone went silent for a moment, and when he spoke again his voice was a surprisingly somber tone.

"You know that there wasn't anyone else… after you left I mean. He wouldn't go with any girls and-"

"-Liam." I cut in quietly. "What's going on?"

"He, he was supposed to call me when he got back to LA and he didn't. I called his flatmate and, he said that Charlie never showed."

"He never…" I broke off, a new kind of panic sweeping through me. "What happened?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "But it's been over a week and, well… I'm getting worried."

"You're… what do you mean?"

"I don't know Samantha, I just thought that, well, you might've heard from him or something."

"Do you, is there anything I can do?"

"Can you," he sighed and laughed sadly. "I can't get a hold of my parents. Or, well, we had a falling out and they don't _want_ me to get a hold of them…"

I frowned in confusion, but didn't press him for an explanation. "Got it, I'll call them."

"You don't mind?"

"No… no of course not."

_Of course I don't have any problem calling my EX's PARENTS!_

"Thanks Samantha."

"I'll call you if I find anything out."

"Thank you. Bye."

He hung up and I put the phone back on it's base.

I stared at it for a few seconds, trying to sort out what I was feeling.

I was over Charlie. He was bad, he cheated on me many times. I don't care about him anymore.

But I was worried about him.

Which meant I _did _care.

Which also meant that…shit.

I wasn't over him.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I picked up the phone and called Charlie's mom.

She was thrilled to talk to me, and we chatted idly for a while before I had the guts to ask her how her son was doing.

The line went quiet.

"Patty?" I asked.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice oddly choked. "It's just… he hasn't come back from Australia yet."

"Did he decide to stay longer or…" I trailed off, feeling panicky again.

"No, it's nothing like that," she sniffed. "Oh Samantha, we got a call from the airplane people yesterday and…"

"And what?" I breathed.

"His plane never arrived," she said. I could hear her tears now. "They don't know what happened to it. They don't know where it is!"

I bit my lip and shook my head.

"No… no. They couldn't have just _lost _them. They have all kinds of equipment to track people with and-"

"-No Sam," she cut in sadly. "He _is_ lost. He's gone"

A/N: More coming ASAP.. please _please_ **_please _**r/r!!!!!


	4. Homecoming sort of

A/N: Wow… haven't been able to write anything halfway decent for these past few months.. Major changes happening with school and love and such.. so I really am sorry about the delay and I'd like to thank all my reviewers! 'Specially anyone who's reviewed lately… cause it made me remember that people actually want to read this stuff I keep on coming up with….wow.. this thing is not going to follow any of season 2… it abrely follows season one….

Cont.: Next chapter, chapter 5, is Charlie-centric (w00t?). originally a one-shot I wrote, believe it or not… on a long plane ride...

Chapter 4: Homecoming… sort of.

The next few days passed me in a haze. I finally called Steve back and somehow managed to tell him that Charlie was… that the plane was missing. As I spoke, I couldn't help but picture him lying, quiet and unmoving on some beach…

I felt so alone… worse then I had when we'd split. Then, I knew he was still out there… singing and looking at the same sun as me. But I wasn't sure anymore and _that_ is the thing that terrified me. It was hard for me to imagine a world without him.

I was tempted to hop on a plane and fly to see his Mum, or to go to Joey's place, but I didn't.

I went back to the apartment we'd shared together in LA. I grabbed my cds, my wallet, some clean clothes and my coat and walked to the Greyhound station to get a bus to downtown LA.

It did take a while, but I wasn't very trusting of the airports at that moment.

It took me few tries till I got the right one to open the door, but I did manage to get it unlocked. I paused before I opened it though, I felt strangely…. hesitant. I wasn't sure what would be in there. I didn't know what Charlie'd been up to since I'd left. And although everyone'd told me otherwise, I would be VERY surprised if he hadn't found someone else. And the thought of walking in here in the state I was in to find some… girl, like the blond brat who'd smirked at me, in the place that'd been my… OUR home… I couldn't bear the thought of it.

After standing outside his door for several minuets, I shook my head. I was being silly.

_It's just a house._

When I did find the courage to open the door, I as immediately greeted with the familiar smell of cigarettes… and an unfamiliar small furry creature.

"Hey there katze." I said, scooping up the small grey kitten. "When did you get here?"

I carried it back inside and shut the door.

The apartment, or loft as it were, was exactly as I'd remembered it.

There were a few flannel shirts and worn jeans draped around the room. His old bass was perched on the back of the couch, and there were crevices in the cushions that told me he'd been sleeping there. The torn/waded up/ slightly scorched (Charlie liked playing with his lighter when he was frustrated…) and scribbled on pieces of paper by the table and the pile of snapped pencils told me he'd been working. I set the cat down.

I didn't want to pry, but I was curious… so I picked on of them up and glanced over it.

Most of it was scratched out, but there were a few lines that were legible. He'd obviously had issue with this one, and I wondered why he hadn't pitched it. I was going to set it down and do something about the fur ball that was attacking my shoelaces when I saw something scribbled on the margin of the page that caught my eyes. Along with failed titles and tablature (guitar chords) mapped out on the page, there was my name. The bottom section was circled and Charlie'd scrawled _what sammy musta felt _next to it. I quickly scanned the legible words of the song over, feeling my heart sink with guilt as I did.

Do you trust in yourself, 

_In your own fidelity?_

_Like it was something,_

_Something precious._

_Something to believe in_

_Like love before betrayal_

_As if I didn't feel a sort of suffering _

_As if malnutrition and starvation _

_Weren't closing in on me_

_Like you didn't ruin me or something_

_You've made me bitter and broken_

_Tumbling_

_Full of after memories_

The cat (hereafter known as Katze) was mewing loudly. I dropped the paper and picked him up and took him to the kitchen. The search for food for him was a welcome distraction to the strange feelings I was encountering.

And that's what I did for the next few days…weeks… I stopped keeping track.

I stayed in his apartment and fed his cat.

I often wondered if I should just take the cat back home with me and accept the fact that Charlie was really… that wherever he was, he wouldn't be returning anytime soon.

But those kinds of thoughts tended to send me into hysterics.

Completely over him my ass. Who the hell was I fooling?

A/N: I know its short.. but the next part is long and I'm not gonna have it done by tonight.. but it'll be soooooon I swear. I'm all in writing-mode again. J

Here.. have a peek: a fairly rough draft peek mind you….

(Charlie's POV)

He hit the ground with a soft thump and closed his eyes, feeling the thin… thing covering his entire body.

He was really done for this time. The bloody monster was going to eat him.

Or else he'd finally taken a leaf out of the French woman's book and just gone insane…

He made a silent prayer and hesitantly opened his eyes, deathly afraid of what he was going to see. He heard a sniffing noise nearby and he struggled out of whatever it was that was wrapped around him and turned to the sound, staring when he saw the figure next to him roll over.

She blinked her bright blue eyes and met his for a second before she rolled onto her side, her body turned away from his.

"If you're going to yell at me more, I'd appreciate it if you waited till morning."

He blinked, still trying to understand what was happening.

"Sam?" he asked quietly, barely trusting his voice. He was waiting for her to turn into some many eyed/tongued/legged… thingy.

She rolled over and met his eyes coolly. "You expecting someone else?"

There ya go kiddies… I'll try to have that up by Sunday, but I'm not making any promises..


	5. On the Island

A/N: This was a one-shot that I seceded to incorporate. Angsty-Charlie anyone? Warning for language? I think if Charlie were mad this is how he'd sound… so there.

Charlie's POV:

"This is what happens Charlie-boy," he said quietly, only half-aware of the rain that was falling steadily. The fire he'd set up was smoking more then providing heat. He'd wandered away from the main beach, not wanting to deal with anyone, and truth be told, no one wanted to deal with him either. "This is what you get when you spend your life screwing people over."

And he _had_. He'd done so many bad things… Between lies and drugs and fights with Mum and girls… That was probably the worst of it. There was a point when he'd been fucking different girls so often after shows that he'd given up trying to remember their names.

His mind flitted to that poor girl who'd worked so hard to get him a job and help him. And how had he repaid her? By royally screwing her over. She probably hated him too.

The thought made his stomach twist unpleasantly. He didn't deserve anyone's love.

And then there was Sam. Christ, talk about something he didn't deserve. Beautiful and trusting, more then she should be, and loving Samantha… she'd literally found him out in the gutter outside a bar and taken him home and cleaned him up, not knowing who he was or caring.

The second he'd woken up and seen her sewing an 'Interpol' patch on her camera case he'd fallen in love with her. And, god knows why, she'd been mad enough to love him back.

But not anymore. Now he was stuck on an island full of strangers, and she was still in LA, hating him for what he'd done.

More then anything, he wanted to make things right with her. Even if she wouldn't take him back, and he knew she wouldn't, he just wanted… to explain? To tell her how much she still meant to him.

It was later determined that the whole incident was due to a combination of stress, and too little sleep. Most likely the pains of withdrawal as well, although that was one of those things that no one really talked about.

But whatever it was, it made his self-loathing rise inside him so much that he had to do _something_. He had to make things right again, no matter what it took.

And the ocean, he decided as he waded into it, sure as hell wasn't going to get in his way.

Unfortunately for him however, the ocean didn't share his views. It tugged and dragged at his legs and eventually, pulled him under like a piece of driftwood.

The next thing he knew he couldn't see the sky any longer, he couldn't see much of anything, a darkness seemed to be clouding his eyes. He didn't feel wet, or scared or much of anything, All he felt was a cold that surrounded him inside and out.

And he knew it was what he deserved.

A/N: Short… but I needed to break the next part up…. And I know that the part from the last chapter that was supposed to be in _this _chapter isn't there… well, I'm sorry. But I'm gonna be leaving for the weekend I figured that a little chapter was better then no chapter at all.

Thank you all for your continued support!


	6. Reunion

A/N: Holy shit! I'm not dead! Sorry bout the delay, life tends to get in the way of things…

Chapter 6

He woke with a start, feeling something cool and thin surrounding is entire body. He struggled to escape it, and his fight caused him to roll over. He fell a short distance and hit the ground with a soft _thump_.

He closed his eyes.

He was done for… for sure this time. The bloody monster, or whatever it was, had finally caught up with him and was going to finish him off. Or he was finally going insane, as everyone else seemed to be doing lately…

He made a silent prayer and opened his eyes, deathly afraid of what he might see. Certain he'd find himself face-to-face with some übermench monster or machine or something equally terrifying.

Which is why he was so startled when he saw that is was a sheet that he'd been caught in. And it was hanging off of… was that a bed?

He rolled over onto his back and felt the carpeted floor scratch gently at his arms and back. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he saw that there was a ceiling over his head.

Everything seemed familiar to him.

He heard a sniffing noise on the other side of the room and sat up quickly. His eyes landed on a digital clock.

_His _digital clock.

_Definitely losing it._ He thought to himself

He looked down at his chest; his shirt was gone as were all the cuts and bruises he'd acquired on the island. His stained and torn jeans had been replaced by the soft, and clean feeling pair of flannel pants he'd slept in since he was 19. His checkered Vans were on the floor by the closet, where they always landed when he kicked them off.

He didn't know how it was possible, but he was home. At least, if it wasn't his home, it was damn close. Everything was in place exactly as he'd remembered it, his bass leaning on the wall, his _The Clash_ poster falling of the wall because of a lost thumbtack. Everything…it was his home.

He glanced up at the clock, and saw it was just after 3am and the date was August 17th.

The day before Sam had left.

A month or so before the island.

He covered his face with his hands and sighed quietly. Had it all been a dream then? Her leaving, the visit with Liam, the plane… had everything been in his head?

"_I'm home_." He thought. "_What else could it be_?"

Home… if he was home, then that must mean-

He stood up and looked at the bed. When he saw what he did, he couldn't suppress a smile of joy.

There she was, the girl laying on the bed with her hair that same, unmistakable candy apple red as his old Fender, which lay propped on the wall.

He breathed her name out loud, and when he leaned over to touch her check, pale in the dark, he didn't care if this was a dream or not.

He climbed onto the bed and leaned over her, desperate to see more of her face. He'd not seen her for months. Or at least… he felt like he hadn't.

How could this be real? It was beyond impossible.

The springs of the mattress squeaked loudly underneath him and the noise cause her to wake.

She blinked and her bright green eyes stared up at him for a moment before she rolled over onto her side, her body turned away from him.

"If you're going to yell at me more I'd appreciate it if you waited till morning."

He blinked. Yell at her…? Oh yes; now he remembered. They'd had a row before the night she'd… She'd wanted to, go to some family thing with him. And he'd told her no, thinking that he didn't want to scare her off by throwing her in with his clinically mad family. They'd fought for hours…

"Sam?" he asked quietly, half expecting her to turn into some many legged/eyed thing.

"Were you expecting someone else?" she asked coolly, still not looking at him.

"No! I just…" he scooted closer on the bed and got a better look at her. "Christ, it _is_ you."

"Yes," she yawned with a hit of exasperation. "It's me. Now please go back to sleep."

Sleep? Did she think he was going to willingly close his eyes and find himself back…there? It might've just been a dream, but it was certainly not one he planned on returning to…

"No," he said, not really thinking about what he was saying. She rolled over and looked up at him. "I can't… I won't."

"What is it?" she asked. Her eyes were filled with concern for a moment, then she sat up quickly and looked away. "No," she muttered. "I don't care. I'm mad at you…"

Charlie thought it sounded like she was trying to convince herself more then him.

"I know you are," he said quickly. "And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry about everything," He had to make her not hate him anymore. "If you want to come to my parents with me when I see Liam, then fine. My father's absolutely mad, and my mum'll probably just cry all over you, but if it makes you happy then we'll do it."

She blinked at him, "Really?"

He nodded. "Yes, just please don't be mad anymore. Please?"

She smiled and hugged him. "Deal."

He held onto her tightly. He was becoming more and more of where he was and who he was with. Consequently, he was becoming more scared that if he closed his eyes or lost focus for a minute he'd be back with no company but the campfire.

She tried to shift away so she could lie down and go back to sleep, but he just held onto her more tightly.

"Charlie, love." She said, looking up at him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said relaxing his grip a little. "I had a.. nothing's wrong. I'm fine."

She sat back and he let go of her, albeit reluctantly. She touched a hand to his face and gave him a concerned look.

"Charlie." She repeated. "What happened?"

"I just," he hesitated, not sure whether he should call what just happened a dream. It certainly hadn't felt like a dream. "Bad dream. Nothing important."

She continued to watch him carefully. She'd seen that look on his face before; clearly it wasn't 'nothing'.

"Tell me," she rolled over and put her head in his lap so she could look up at him. "Tell me what you dreamed."

He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated again.

"Come on Charlie. It'll make you feel better."

He sighed, and began.

"Okay, well it started with," he paused and looked at the wall. Now that they were reconciled, (though it was much more then that to him. He'd gotten her back.) he was reluctant to bring up the argument. Or what had happened the following night…

She drummed her fingertips on his knees and he went on.

"We fought. Again. And it was horrible and it was all my fault and… and you left. And I packed my bag and was on the first flight to Oz."

She sniffed but Charlie couldn't look at her. He continued his story.

"I met with Liam and acted like a total prick. And left immediately and I got on another plane and…" he broke off. Suddenly his world was limited to that tiny bathroom he'd been in when they plane split.

She turned over his hand in her own and kissed his palm. "Go on." She said softly.

He took a deep breath. "It crashed. The plane.. it lost its radio contact or something and then it split in half and just…" she squeezed his hand. "And we were all stranded on this island in the middle of nowhere and there were so many bodies and so many people screaming…" he paused, it was harder to tell her then he thought it would be. "And then there was the monster thing that kept on rumbling around the woods and there was withdrawl and…" he broke off.

"And…? What is it?"

He took a deep breath, and tried to ignore how stupid he was about to sound.

"And… and you're not there Sammy. I'm all alone and I can't stand it."

She sat up immediately and he leaned to her, resting his head against her chest. She kissed the nape of his neck softly; partly to calm him down and partly to because she was touched that her absence made such a difference.

She took his hand under the faded quilt that now covered them both.

"Hey," she said, leaning back a little. He still wasn't meeting her gaze. "Look at me?" she asked, almost inaudibly. He did, and his damp eyes didn't escape her gaze.

"I love you." She said, squeezing his hand gently.

"Love you to baby," he rested his forehead against her own. "More then you'll ever know." His eyelids felt heavy and began to droop, more out of routine then need. But he soon realized what they were doing and snapped them open again. He would _not _sleep.

"Charlie," she apparently became aware of his dilemma. "Is there anything else wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing's wrong now."

She rolled over and tugged him down next to her. Once he was next to her she buried her head against his chest, their linked hands rested near her cheek.

"Go to sleep." she mumbled. Then, as if she could read his mind she added, "It was only a dream Charlie."

"I know," he squeezed his eyes tightly for a moment. "It's stupid, I know that. It's just… god it was so real Sam. And I'd hate… I couldn't bear thinking that I'll end up there again, even if it's just a dream… and I'll think you're still angry and hating me."

"Hey," She scooted up the bed and met his eyes. "I love you, okay?" she smiled. And he returned it. "So know that. If fall asleep and end up back on your island… just remember it, okay?"

She leaned her face up and kissed him softly. Charlie pulled her as close to him as he could. He felt as though he hadn't kissed her for ages. For that moment, the island was gone from his mind. There was no plane or monster… only the girl he'd thought he'd lost forever.

They broke apart, too soon for Charlie, but she put her head back on his chest, and the familiar feeling of her breath on his skin relaxed him more then anything else could at that moment.

"And as for forgiveness…" she said sleepily. "What's to make you think I haven't forgiven you already?"

He smiled at her through the darkness and it was only then that he allowed himself to close his eyes and fall asleep.

**------------**

**A/N: **So..there it is… do you think its all a dream? Well… I hope most of you are smarter then that… I'll have more up ASAP, but feel free to browse my other works if you need entertaining. Thanks to my reviewers as always….


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